Facing Fiction
by EMMSM2765
Summary: What would you do if make believe showed up on your doorstep?
1. Chapter 1

Facing Fiction

Chapter 1

Occasionally touched by the humming breeze of the calm wind; Sarah and Chuck's mournful emotions soaked the air in woe. A gentle breeze delicately brushed her blonde, glinted strands of hair against her smoothened, never-aging face.

Spoken in the form of a bedtime fable, he narrated to Sarah their life story – how they met, all the adventures they experienced (together) and the tale of how they fell in love. Tears of joy; tears of sadness both enveloped their forlorn eyes as damp streams of water trickled down their cheeks. Laughter spewed from their chortling mouths, following the mention of all the affluent experiences that had filled their lives with abundant amiability.

His hand cupped over the other, tightening his grasp as nerves began to slither up his spine. Fearing her response, he remained solicitous in telling her his best friend's theory.

"You know Morgan," he gulped, shaking his head, "has this crazy idea."

Her eyes turned to face his, acknowledging his anxiety to proceed. "What is it?"

"He thinks that with one kiss, you'll remember everything…"

She laughed, amused by the fairy-tale absurdity. "One magical kiss?"

"Yeah."

Waterfalls of worry and disappointment flooded through him, forcing him to admit to himself that the return of her memory was a hopeless, child-like fantasy. Seated in gloom, his chuckies scraped against the sand, creating the illusion of a wrinkled, sabulous surface.

He suppressed his inner feelings of disillusionment and began to giggle with her. With slight turns from side to side, he shook his head, frustrated in having held on to the false hope of this make-believe dream. He tried to confess to himself that what he desired may never come true.

_What if she wasn't willing to test the hypotheses?_

Feeling foolish in believing that there might be a chance, he continued, "I know it's-"

"Chuck."

Swiftly darting his head, he turned to face hers. "Yeah?"

Their eyes met. The corners of her voluptuous lips rose, forming a silent smile. "Kiss me," she invited.

Gobsmacked by the invitation, his eyes lit up with effervescent mirth; his face radiant with warmth and promise.

Her eyes faced his, analysing the man that sat beside her. He was so gentle, so kind, so _nerdy _and so gripping. Seated next to this loveable character, she couldn't help but feel drawn to his sweet, understanding personality. At first glance, she knew that he didn't appear to be her most likely candidate for a partner. But through understanding herself and her wants and desires, it became adamantly clear that he definitely resembled all the traits she was looking for in a lifelong companion. Not to mention that the more she glanced at him, the more attractive he became. She had fallen in love with him before, and through getting to know him a lot better this second time round, she clearly – to an extent – understood why.

As he leaned in, her heart suddenly fluttered; awakening caged emotions that had been locked inside of her. With a welcoming expression, she neared his anxious lips and kissed him…

…

His lips pulled free from hers and his eyes remained shut; stuck in the amazement of the experience. Consumed in excitement from their prolonged embrace, he allowed himself to believe that the kiss magically worked. Though, he remained nervous to open his eyes and ask her if it did. He knew he couldn't face the truth if it didn't.

After an agonising second, his eyes slowly widened. The picture that lay before him caused his enthusiastic smile to brusquely disappear…

"Sarah?"

His eyes darted anxiously, widened with shock. He recognised her absence and searched for her presence. "Sarah?"

_Gone? How could she have disappeared so quickly? _

Facing the air that was once heavy from the mass of a human body now remained vacant and light. It seemed as though all worldly barriers had been surpassed due to the anticipated kiss shared between them; and as a result, Sarah's existence passed through that barrier, vanishing from their world.

Seated alone at the beach, confusion and worry sprouted fear from within him, accelerating the pace of his fragile heart.

_Where did she go?_

…

Pulling away from their lengthened kiss, her eyes gently opened, revealing to her senses the bewildering location that she found herself in. Blared by the repetitive noise of constant chatter, Sarah was crowded by hordes of families paying a visit to the Cabrillo Beach. Taken aback by their prompt presence, she began to realise Chuck was missing. It was as though he had been replaced by strangers hoping to catch a tan or a 'sick wave'.

"Chuck?" she called out in confusion. It remained a mystery to her how within a few seconds all these strangers abruptly appeared and Chuck had suddenly vanished.

As a few of the civilians caught her eye, she noticed their staring glares. They were as shocked by her presence as she was by theirs.

"Mommy, where did that strange lady come from?" she heard a child exclaim. The little girl's blonde ponytails blew in the direction of the wind.

A small boy in _Ben 10_ board shorts (possibly the little girl's older brother) responded. "Lucy, Lucy, that lady teleported. Mom, she just teleported!" he began to taunt like a childish eight year old would, "I told you, I told you, I told you teleportation is real!" With an antagonising glare, their mother retreated from her seat, packed her belongings and dragged her children further away from the 'peculiar newcomer'.

Everyone who was a witness to the strange occurrence continually tantalised Sarah with their non-wavering stares. This made her feel overwhelmed and terrified.

_What just happened?_

"You're in my seat," came a stern voice from behind her. With a brisk turn of the head, she caught a glimpse of the rigorous speaker. Attired in long, dark pants and a tight top, this overweight, voluminous woman obviously never received the weather forecast – the air was steamed in heat and her dark garments would absorb the warmth. Compressed by the tautened feel of her tight shirt, her copious rolls of excess fat nestled close together, emphasising the fact that even an elephant would feel burdened by her weight. Light reflected off her dark, bob-shaped hairdo, accentuating the sticky grease that lay dense among her scalp. "You are in my seat," she repeated.

"Uh, sorry. Your seat?"

"Yeah lady, _my_ seat. Every day I visit this beach and sit in the very same spot. And right now, you're in it."

With bewilderment, Sarah removed herself from the gritty surface of sand. A small cluster of grain rested loosely among the rear of her long, blue jeans. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't know."

Unclipping the foldable chair that had been stuck under her armpit (glued by her condensed sweat), the brazen woman grumbled with vehement slight, "Pfft, these Hollywood Stars. They think that just because they are famous, they can get away with stealing a person's spot!"

Perplexed with the audible mention of 'Hollywood Star', Sarah ignored the muffled comment and steadily darted away; trying to free herself from central attention. At fast pace, she refuged herself away from the beach. Her eyes sought for any sign that could give her an indication as to where Chuck might be.

Reaching the pavement, her feet grazed against the tar and with weariness, she analysed her surroundings. Wherever she treaded, citizens continuously gazed upon her, as though fame lit her up like a Christmas light; drawing their gawky eyes towards her radiant presence.

Feeling jarred by the x-ray eyes of passers-by, combined with the supernatural disappearance of Chuck, her mind wandered for solutions to her current, dishevelled issue. Nearing the parking lot, she patted the pockets of her jeans in search of her car keys. Though, its lean and light feel led her to the conclusion that her pockets were vacant. To enhance her downtrodden emotions, her car was out of sight; appearing as though the wave of a magical wand extirpated all evidence of its existence.

"What the hell is going on?" she infuriatedly exclaimed, wrapping her fingers round the bony extensions of her  
waist.

"Uh, is there a problem, ma'am?" a gentleman's voice responded from behind her. She turned to face him. A youthful, dark-haired 30 year old stood before her, wearing sandals and patterned board-shorts. Sprained across his sleeveless t-shirt was a white-printed word 'Nerd', with a red oval-shaped border.

As she faced him, he recognised her – the blonde, shimmering hair; the sparkling, deep blue eyes and the curvaceous lips. "Oh, I – I didn't know you were – um, hi…" A small titter escaped his lips, following an anxious smile of delight. "I know you probably get this a lot, but uh," he reached in his pocket and drew out a pen, "well I don't have paper, but do you mind if you could sign my shirt?"

She drew back in uncertainty. "Why?"

"Why? Uh – well, you are amazing on _Chuck_. I just love tha-"

"Chuck?" she asked with confusion. The name then registered. "Chuck? What do you know about Chuck?"

"Um, well, everything. I watch it all the time."

Misunderstanding his reply, he came off as possessing traits of a stalker. _He watches Chuck all the time?_

"Huh? Ew…" she replied, her expression making her appear as though she swallowed something distasteful.

"Excuse me, Ew? I don't underst – anyway, I would really love it if you signed my shirt…if you don't mind?"

She ignored his request. "Do you know where Chuck is?"

"What? What do you mea–?"

"And do you know what happened to my car?" Her hand pointed in the direction of its absence; towards an empty parking spot where her once sumptuous car had been deposited.

"Um, sorry?"

"I left my car here. Now it is gone. Did you take it?" With aggressive accusation, he seemed suspicious to her spy senses. Still entirely flabbergasted, this strange world of mishap and mystery left her befuddled. Unknowledgeable of the differences this alternate universe had in comparison to the one she came from, everything that happened seemed to tinker with her logical brain. To her rational mind, she could only concur that this fellow was some sort of 'stalker' – how else would he know Chuck and who she was? So in inference, he must have been the person to steal her car or have something to do with the unexplainable – right?

"Huh? No, I wouldn't – I… Sorry, I am really confused…and, and shocked. I mean, it's just that…I cannot believe I am standing in front of you right now. Um, please – could you please just sign my shirt?"

"Why? Why do you want me to sign your shirt?" Her volume escalated as the ever-sprouting confusion began to daunt on her mind.

"Because…um, you're Yvonne Strahovski…and–"

"Who?" He remained taken aback. "Look, I think you are mistaken. I am not that person."

"That is impossi-"

"Sorry."

With stodgy tramples from her ignorant feet, Sarah stormed off; leaving the _Chuck_ fan dismally heartbroken.

Muddled with rapid, unanswerable questions, her current predicament left her lost – literally. Completely. Through this entire confusion, she didn't have time to even think over her relationship and situation with Chuck; to focus on her memories and who she had become over the past five years. She had to first concentrate on finding him and getting herself out of this weird predicament that she found herself buried in.

Upon deciding that the next best step would be to call Bartowski, she reached for her phone in her pocket and dialled his number. Over swept with feelings of relief, a deep, masculine voice answered. "Hello."

"Hello? Chuck?"

"No? Who is this?"

Surprised, she continued. "Uh, who is _this_? Where is Chuck?"

"Chuck? Apologies ma'am, but I think you have the wrong number."

"That can't be. This number is under my contact list!" With thwarted insincerity, the deep-voiced man hung up the phone. "Hello? Hello?"

Frustrated by his impolite gesture, she focussed her eyes on her contact list. She had numerable 'friends' that she could call, but remained too shy to do so. After all, even following the enchanted kiss that Chuck and her shared – the one that held so much magical promise – she still could not remember them. She couldn't call Ellie, assuming her sister-in-law would continue to hold a grudge against her for threatening to kill her. She couldn't call Casey, supposing he would be on a plane, leaving with Verbanski right about now.

Feeling vulnerable and alone, she felt like a sitting duck. She had no weapons with her. She had no one familiar by her side. All she acquired were the clothes on her back, a few hundred bucks in her rear pocket and the phone in her hand.

_What the hell is going on?_

…

"Morgan? Morgan?" Chuck called out, his feet swiftly charging through the courtyard, nearing his best friend. Morgan had his key in his door lock, about to enter into his abode. "Morgan, something weird just happened, buddy–"

Expecting jovial news, his eyes lit up. "Did you kiss her? Did it work?"

"Buddy, that's not relevant right now. Sarah disappeared."

"What? Disappeared? How?"

Chuck failed to respond. Through being lost in understanding he remained lost for words. His head buffered with rapid shaking.

Mistaking Chuck's shock for disappointment, Morgan sighed with grievance. "You kissed her?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Chuck, please tell me you used a mint before you kissed her. You always use a mint! There is no bigger turn-off than bad breathe."

"Morgan! That is not the issue."

"Then why did she leave?"

"She didn't leave. She disappeared."

"Isn't that the same thing? Though 'disappeared' does have a more mysterious undertone to it…"

"Morgan, she vanished. One moment I was kissing her and in the very next second she wasn't there. Poof! She was gone."

"Poof? Just vanished through thin air?"

"Yeah buddy. I don't know where she is. I don't understand it. She was just…missing. It was so strange. And it was too quick for her to have walked away. She definitely just…disappeared… Morgan; I don't know what to do. You need to help me find her."

"Another mission, huh? All right, Chuck. But don't worry. Wherever she evaporated to, we will find her. And this time, you will get her back for good!"

…

"One ticket to Burbank please," Sarah asked, gently resting her arms upon the ticket counter of the train station.

The man behind the counter lifted his head from his computer screen. Before uttering a single word, the declining of his lower jaw indicated the piercing jabs of nerves that shot through his body and trickled up his spine. "Uh…uh…"

"What? What is it?" Befuddled, she propped her head in all directions, searching for the cause of his loss of words. Her spy senses started to surface, fearing the threat of danger.

"It – whoa…in all my life I never thought this day would come true."

"What?"

"Oh ha-ha, sorry for the confusion. I am a fan."

"A fan of what?"

"A fan of the show… _Chuck_? The TV series." Like a cat getting puddled with soaking water, Sarah's eyes bulged with adamant muss. This was the third reaction that she had encountered from a stranger involving some reference to a TV series. "I watched the last episode – the two hour finale is on tonight right? Yeah, yeah – so that moment with you losing your memories and with Quinn and those flashcards was like whew; such a stab to the heart."

Through his jubilant ramble, a flicker of lights lit up in her head from the slight slip of 'Quinn' and the loss of her memories. _How did he know?_

"Quinn?" A stern, weary expression overshadowed the puzzled look that had covered her face before. "How and what do you know about Quinn?"

His dropped jaw – still drooling from the sight of seeing her – abruptly closed shut with silence. "Uh, I watch the show. What do you mean? Wait – wait; is this like some role-play thing? If it is, I am so game. Should I get into character?" He cleared his throat with a repetitive, coarse cough. As he spoke, his voice was deepened with a lowered, base-note sound in an attempt to portray the act of a secret, domineering spy. "What do _I_ know about Quinn? Well darling, everything. He works for me. You see, I am the mastermind behin-"

"Cut the bullshit. What is going on?"

"I – I thought you were role-playing…?"

"No, why would I do that? Just explain to me what you mean by TV show."

"You are kidding right?" She responded with silence to his query, making him start to doubt her level of sanity.

Removing his questioning eyes from her stringent gaze, he lowered his head to face the bright light that radiated from his PC monitor. After frenetically tapping his keyboard, he jammed down on the 'enter' sign and turned his PC to face Sarah. She eyed the computer screen that had been flooded with images pertinent to the TV series, _Chuck_. Pictures from behind the scenes, stills from the episodes and even photos from the _Chuck_ cast were all absorbed through Sarah's gobsmacked eyes.

"What – what is this?"

"Images of your TV show…encase you forgot."

Glaring with unveiling disillusion, she focussed on one person in particular that continually reappeared in these images – herself. "That – that is me…But…how, I – I don't reme-"

Cutting off the end of her sentence, a flashing thought triggered lightning bolts through her gaped mind. These incidents that she viewed through the pictures displayed could have been from a past experience. Chuck possibly failed to mention the vibrant fact that they starred in a TV series and that her whole life had been recorded like the Kardashians. But the more she analysed the predicament, the more she realised that none of this made sense; even to her amnesia-stricken memory.

"Yeah, that is you. And there you are again," he gestured, pointing to an image of her _Chuck_ co-star seated beside her during an interview, "with Zachary Levi. Hey – you still keep in contact with that guy, right? He is such an awesome dude!"

"Zachary Levi? What – huh? No, that – isn't the man in the picture Chuck?"

"Well yeah, if you want to look at it in that way. I guess Zac _is_ Chuck; after all he is the actor that plays him on the show."

Like the screeching sound of car breaks coming to a frenzied halt, Sarah's spinning head abruptly froze. Something dodgy was happening and she couldn't explain it. The first unimaginable occurrence was the loss of her memory. Following that was the discovery of her marriage to Chuck. On an even grander mystical note, the man she 'married' then disappeared and among numerous occasions, she was mistaken for a well-liked 'celebrity'. People began to stare at her wherever she went; her life apparently had become a TV show and Chuck – Chuck was supposedly a fictional character played by the likes of an actor who went by the name of Zachary Levi?

She couldn't explain any of the weird phenomena that had surrounded her over the past week or so. Her head felt like a rotary tornado, capturing her life in a violent, destructive blizzard that fatally left her stuck in an amnesia-like damnation.

With grievance, she raised her eyes to the befuddled – yet bemused – fan. "Who is that seated beside him?"

"Uh…you? Ha-ha…" he gulped, uncertain whether she was pulling his leg or ripping it off.

"And who do you think I am?"

"…Yvonne Strahovski…?"

_Yvonne Strahovski?_ That name triggered her memory. The stalker-fan she encountered earlier that day had mentioned it. For some portentous reason, everyone seemed to perceive her as this Hollywood Star, and she couldn't grasp the reason why. Yes, the resemblance was uncanny. Though, she had no recollection of this other woman and no understanding as to why their features seemed so similar. Did she pretend to be this celebrity for a cover? Was this all a mission that she failed to recall? None of it made sense; but she was determined to shovel her way to the bottom of this dilemma, through which she would hopefully find her way back to Chuck.

"Okay," she idly replied. "Could you tell me where I live?"

…

As though she had been repeatedly clobbered with a baseball bat, Yvonne's head beat to the sounding of an ominous drum. Welcomed with the amplified noise of daytime greetings, her boyfriend, Tim, made his appearance into the kitchen where she stood. She attempted to cool down her boiling forehead with the freezing touch of her icy palm. Unclicking the kettle, its handle was grasped tightly by the masculine hand of Tim as he poured soothing, hot water into a mug to make himself some tea. A dour sigh escaped her red, voluptuous lips. "I have the worst headache ever," she moaned.

"Shame babe. Have some medicine."

A repetitive clatter of tiny paws tapped against the tiled floor of their lustrous home. Chazzie, Yvonne's black and white adopted dog, passed through the kitchen to where her bowl full of doggy food resided. "I have no idea how I got this headache," Yvonne stated.

Through opening one of her raised, glass cupboards that was bordered with a white frame, she extracted some headache tablets. "Eh, I feel like death." With a look of tired desperation, she poured tap water into her glass before dunking down the tablets and using the water as a pacifier to smoothen the swallow.

"Well, go have a nap. Maybe you will feel better afterwards."

"No, I'd rather not. The _Chuck_ finale is on tonight and I want to watch it. It makes it special if I watch it simultaneous to the fans."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed with her resistance to rest for a while. "Fine. But you will be tired by tonight."

"Yeah–"

The unannounced booming sound of a musical chant from the ringing of their doorbell startled her sensitive ears.

"I'll go see who it is."

Wrapping her loose over-garment tightly round her body, she unlocked her front door and gently pulled it open.

The tautened over-garment unfastened as Yvonne's hands steadily dropped to her sides. Frozen in bewildered disbelief, she witnessed _herself_ standing before her eyes.

With uncertainty, her duplicate greeted. "Uh, Yvonne? …apparently you're me. Hi, I'm Sarah Walker."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Muted in the awkward air of daunting silence, the windows to Yvonne's soul glared upon the undeniable recognisable face that sat with suspicion in her living room. Lost for words, her lips occasionally appeared to find some; but would soon close in response to feelings of uncertainty. Her mirror glared upon her, never-wavering; never blinking. Both clones remained stunned from the presence of their reflection. Two beings, identical in physical form; yet so mentally variant.

The rapid patter of Yvonne's small pets signalled the return of her fury little creatures into the living room. They hurriedly prompt themselves onto the smooth, sandy-brown surface of the couch where Sarah sat, now drenched in sudden fright. Her swift darts away from the touch of their musty, wet tongues emphasised her fear for dogs, as she hurled herself towards the corner of the couch. Perhaps it was actual, genuine fear that motivated her to jarring quivers. Or maybe the feelings of wonderment and delusion left her uncomfortable in the space she occupied. Regardless, it captured Yvonne's attention and led her to react in a more neighbourly manner.

"Hey – hey, okay; Chazzie and Wilbur; come here boys," Yvonne gestured. They hopped onto the opposing couch, nestling their rears among her lap. The broadened smile on her face signified her love for these animals as well as the lack of dislike to the feel of their panting, wet tongues.

The occurrence clearly left Sarah immensely uncomfortable, intensifying the incommodious feelings she had been experiencing before.

"I am sorry about the way I reacted earlier…" Yvonne muttered, stroking the energetic dogs that adhered to her.

"No, I – it's…I understand…"

* * *

Earlier that day

* * *

_"Who are __**– **__what? I mean…you're – listen, I love my 'Chuck' fans with all my heart but this; this is taking it too far! This is sick."_

_"What?"_

_"Plastic surgery? I mean…that's why you look like me?" Yvonne's eyebrows furrowed. _

_"What? Okay, look. Yvonne? This whole – whatever __**this**__ is – has left me just as confused as you are. One minute I am with Chuck and the next – I came here hoping for a solution and you…well, you are…me. So I thought that you might –" _

_Yvonne withdrew from Sarah's presence, entering backwards into her apartment. "I know this may seem like some fun game to you but to me, this is crossing the line. Why – why would you do this to yourself? Before all the…surgery I am sure you were an attractive woman – or man – I don't….I don't know, but really, you have got to leave."_

_"Leave?" Sarah's truculent feet stomped the ground as she steadily entered into the apartment, nearing Yvonne. "I can't leave. No, I need to find Chuck and you might know how to get to him. You have to, please."_

_"That's…that's… crazy!" Her trembling hand reached out, capturing a family photo frame that hung against the wall beside her. The clear picture of mother, father and daughter lay enclosed by the wooden, square frame. She extended it in front of her, masking her poker face with a menacing glare. "I am warning you. Leave."_

_Sarah's hands cupped round her waist whilst her face became encased with a daring smirk. "Really? You think that is going to work? On a CIA agent?"_

_"Who are you?" _

_"Just give me the frame," she conversationally ordered, drawing near to Yvonne in an attempt to extract her clone's choice of weapon out of her hand. In response, Yvonne panicked and lifted her clutched 'weapon', ready to initiate her attack. However, the impulses developed from spy training forced Sarah to retaliate. In one swift move, Sarah knocked the frame out of her look-alike's hand and wrapped her arms round her neck as she cupped her hands over Yvonne's gaping mouth. _

_"Listen to me, Yvonne. You are my only hope in finding Chuck." She endlessly tried to fidget her way out of Sarah's grasp, but to no avail, "I've lost all my memories of these last five years, hurt the people that I supposedly once loved, and have disappeared from the 'world' where I came from. Don't aggravate me." _

_Yvonne's eyes lit up, as though a light bulb suddenly flashed inside her mind. _

_"One second I was on a beach with him – supposedly a very __**important**__ beach – and we kissed and then I made it to this world somehow. Now you need to help me get back. Please, Yvonne, help me."_

_The quiver of Yvonne's frantic body suddenly disappeared as Sarah freed her from the tautened grasp. The actress slowly turned around to face her ominous double; her eyes widened with wonder and confusion. "Your clothes…they are the same." Sarah lacked a response. "How did you know all that? About the beach and the kiss? That episode hasn't aired yet."_

_"That's because I am Sarah Walker. And you are going to help me get back home."_

* * *

Back to the present

* * *

"No, I do apologise. I guess I was too quick in coming to conclusions," Yvonne stated, still stroking her two dogs.

"Ha-ha, well a plastic-wannabe certainly wouldn't be my first thought. But I guess coming to this conclusion is just as surreal."

Amazed by the freak occurrence, the Aussie still could not manage to grasp the concept. "How are – I mean, you're just so…"

"I know. I can't wrap my head around it either. Around anything that has happened to me these past few weeks. It just feels like one rollercoaster ride after the other."

"How did you even get here? I am sorry, I don't want to sound callous but you are…fiction. Right?"

"Fiction?"

Yvonne's mind raced, abundant in thought. She tried to analyse the predicament, knowing logic wouldn't help her understand.

"I played you. I characterised you; spent late nights going over lines – _your_ words – trying to figure out how Sarah Walker would say them. How Sarah Walker would react; what Sarah Walker would do. I don't understand how you can be here, thinking and speaking and–"

"I don't know. I really can't explain how I got here. But that isn't my biggest concern right now. I just want to know how to get back."

"You said you kissed him. Well, did it work? I mean did you remember?"

"Uh, well no. Unfortunately, no…"

"Oh…"

Darkened vapour of air surrounded them. Yvonne herself had felt the pangs of forget in having portrayed this 'character'. But actually being the character – actually forgetting everything. Those pangs of heartache were sure to be intensified and Yvonne could see the confusion and hurt in Sarah's eyes. "How do you feel?"

She forced a plastic smile. "What do you mean?"

"I mean how are you feeling? I know you of all people hoped that kiss would work. I was there. I was you. How do you feel?"

The forlorn colour of red cascaded round her eyes, following the envelopment of tears. It was evident though, that Sarah undoubtedly tried to hide her rising emotions. "Look, Yvonne, as much as you know me, I still don't feel comfortable talking to you about my feelings. It's just…personal."

Yvonne reciprocated with a welcoming smile. "No, of course not. I understand. I mean, who would trust a person who was about to attack them with a family photo-frame? Ha-ha."

Her light-hearted remark helped alleviate the damp air that cased the room. "Ha-ha, well definitely not a CIA agent."

_Footsteps._

Through the sound of titter, footsteps could be heard. Sarah's tentative ears responded to the crescendo of pounding feet against the cold, tiled floor. Her eyes darted for any house accessory that she could morph into a deadly weapon of attack. The sound increased as the footsteps neared the room, getting louder. Louder. "Hey babe, who was at the door?" The trail of a man's voice steadily approached as the presence of another being neared the living room. "I was upstairs, listening to some music and then –"

In the reflection of Yvonne's dazed eyes, Tim stood in the doorway; his head feeling burdened by the presence of two identical women. His frenzied eyes leaped from clone to clone, trying to use logic to explain the illogical.

"Hey love. Um…so…this is Sarah." His eyes blinked repeatedly, as though his mind couldn't register what his eyes were forced to witness.

_"Sarah?"_

"Yes, Sarah. From _Chuck_. Sarah Walker..."

…

The frenetic pace of Chuck's feet up and down the courtyard clearly indicated his frantic state. The loss of his wife and lack of knowledge in knowing what to do scared him. He felt helpless, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. The boiling of his blood intensified as thoughts of her being in danger spread through his mind, like the plague spreading through cities.

_What if I can't find her? What if…what if…_

"Okay Chuck, in order for us to find her the first thing we will need to do is retrace our steps, which is the first indication that you should stop pacing across the courtyard now."

"Okay, retrace steps. That might help. Actually, Morgan, that's not a bad idea. Maybe she left foot trails in the sand. Yes! That could lead us to her. Well, that's if she actually ran away instead of disappeared…which then means that she wouldn't want to be found…"

"Chuck, calm down," the bearded Grimes exclaimed. With endearment, he attempted to relax his best friend by patting him on the back. "She wouldn't run away from you. Stop always assuming the worst all right. Maybe someone kidnapped her."

Chuck enveloped his downtrodden face with a fake, nervous smile. "Thanks buddy. That option makes me feel a whole lot better now."

"Ooh, what if she really was kidnapped; but not by some evil, Intersect-crazed maniac. No; but rather by the Doctor, Tardis style!"

"Not now, Morgan."

"Yeah, well you better hope that's not an option because if she is with the Doctor then your relationship is pretty much doomed. No woman ever escapes the Doctor's Time Lord charms."

"Thanks. That's helpful."

"Sorry."

The never-ending scrape of chuckies against the courtyard floor came to a sudden halt, enclosing the courtyard in silence.

"You know what, Morgan. The time for worrying is done. My spiralling stops here. I am going to find Sarah Walker and get her back and no kidnapper, Time Lord or peculiar disappearance is going to stop me. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I am Chuck Bartowski, the Intersect and no one ever separates me from my wife."

…

Seated beside his girlfriend, Tim's widened eyes expressed fear and dismal confusion. Like a bat being forced to view daylight, he was a fish out of water; uncomfortable in his own living room.

"Tim, right? So who would he be in my world?"

"Non-existent," Yvonne replied.

"Oh… and what about Chuck?"

"What do you mean?"

"There are two of you…" Tim muttered, lacking expression through his perplexed voice. Seemingly, he took the form of an 'ice statue', being frozen in fear. He barely moved, never fidgeted and occasionally released understandable words that expressed his bewilderment.

"Well there's a Chuck in my world. So surely there must be a Chuck in this world."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I suppose that would be Zachary Levi then."

"That name sounds familiar."

"I think someone drugged my tea…"

"Well it would be. Zachary is quite a well-known guy."

"So are you apparently," Sarah remarked. "Everywhere I went people kept asking for your autograph."

"Really?" A look of delight shone through her luminous face.

"Girlfriend count: one, two…"

"You know, five or so years in USA and I still never get used to that."

Finally Sarah's eyes took notice of the mentally-befuddled man that sat across from her. He appeared to be in a trance, as though someone had hypnotised him and left him to act like a puppet without string.

"I think something is wrong with your boyfriend," she stated with concern.

"Ha-ha. I guess so hey." Yvonne glanced in his direction, forcing his eyes to stare into hers. "Tim, Tim; hey love. It is me. Relax."

His eyes rapidly blinked trying to hurdle his mind over facing the unexplainable. With the buffering of his head, he pulled his mind out of his dazed thoughts and 'woke up'. His body expressed fright as he jolted away from the couch, drawing himself further away from the peculiar 'twins'.

"Wow, okay this is creepy. This is really creepy. How is this happening right now?" he speedily paced.

"Relax," Yvonne replied. "That is what we are hoping to find out."

With extended eyelids, his eyes expressed the bulge of explicit fear. His finger pointed in their direction while its quiver announced the unstable thumping of his fickle heart. "There are two of – it's like – how do I – what do I – you and you – there are two – _two_ of the same people! _Two_!"

"Well technically there is one of each. We just look the same," Sarah rebutted.

"She speaks! She replied! How is she doing that?"

"Ha-ha, Tim, seriously, calm down."

"No, no. This is too big. Sorry, this is just too…different. I cannot deal with this right now. Sorry."

"Tim."

With rapid motion, he grabbed a jacket and charged towards the door, his feet swiftly stomping the ground below.

_"Tim!"_

With a single pull of the door handle, he walked through, slamming the door behind him.

Yvonne's woven gown now lay draped down her sides as she idly stood near the now shut entrance of her home. The angle of her body faced the front door and the look of worry and concern emanated through her befuddled eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"No, Sarah it is fine. I think he just needs to clear his head."

She seated herself among her couch with her hands pressed tightly against her forehead, attempting to feel the pounding beat of the extra burdened weight that now culminated through her scalp. Chazzie and Wilbur barked their way out of the room with their voices trailing in the distance, affixing extra beats to the throbbing of her head.

"Um, are you okay?"

"Yes, don't worry. I'm fine," she smiled, lifting her face to view the identical one that sat in front of her. It was her opinion that through frustration, the headache intensified.

"Oh. You sure?"

"No, really Sarah. Everything is fine. So you said you needed my help to get you back to your world. What did you need me to do?"

"I…I don't know. What I thought was that, seeing as you are me in _this_ world, then maybe this whole…teleportation scenario might be linked to you somehow."

"You don't think I did this do –"

"No, ha-ha, no. I think your reaction was evidence enough."

"Honestly Sarah, I really have no clue as to how or why this happened. I am sorry. I – this kind of supernatural thing really isn't my territory. Zach would know what to do. "

Staring into the distance, Sarah's downtrodden emotions of unavoidable hopelessness radiated through her, accelerating the rate of her heart. She knew that it was impossible for her to remain in this foreign dimension. Here she lacked an identity and regardless of the fact that she had forgotten her prior identity back in Burbank, she still had a name, a real life and a promise of renewing and repairing it. Though, in this alternate world – the supposed reality – she was a fictional character; not credible enough to assume the identity of Sarah Walker. She even lacked CIA clearance. Thus, it was impossible for her to abide in this opposing dimension. How could she? She never 'existed'.

"What you could do, if you like, is maybe watch the _Chuck_ finale with me tonight? Maybe you'll get lucky. Perhaps something strange will happen."

"The _Chuck_ finale? Oh, the show – Wait…you guys stopped filming it?"

Muted by that query, both persons came to a sudden realisation; thinking along the same mental path – now that they have stopped filming the TV series, what happens to the 'characters'? Do they seize to exist? Will their 'alternate world' now evanesce from creation? Sarah's inquiry began to dampen the room with a layer of momentary mourn. Shock consumed her forlorn eyes. She hadn't conceived that idea before. To oneself, one is real. But when oneself acknowledges the fact that someone – some exterior 'god' – controls your life, it makes a person wonder if oneself has power over whether they 'live' or 'die'.

Just like the tale of Sarah's capricious memories, having faded from her life, the TV series appeared to now fall along the same path, affecting her life on an even greater scale. Possibly, once the finale aired, she wouldn't need a gateway back into her realm. Maybe instead, she – and her entire universe – would apathetically, just fade away.

…

The countdown to the two-hour finale began to reach the finish line. Long legs appeared from the kitchen, carrying a large bowl of lightly-salted popcorn towards the living room where the _Chuck _finale would be viewed. A shadow formed, created by the bowl's mould as it rested upon the table. Next to Sarah, who sat with slight incertitude, Yvonne propped herself on the couch.

"Are you ready?" she asked with affection.

"I think so…"

"Are you sure? I know this must be really weird for you. I understand. So if you don't want–"

"No, Yvonne. I want to. Press play."

The paused TV screen now unfroze and the beginning of the first of the last two episodes began to air. Clips from previous episodes that acted as reminders to the audience suddenly came into view. Sarah's eyes held amazement and vivacity. Not to mention, thoughts of shock and muddled frenzy erupted through her as her complexion covered the TV screen.

"Oh my word. That's me." At first glance, she became a witness to what she had forgotten – the bullet train, the downloading of the faulty intersect and the eradication of her memories. "That's…" her heart sped up. Quinn's presence became visible. "…Quinn!" Her face grimaced vehemently.

"Don't worry, Sarah. He dies."

"Yeah. I know that part."

As the episode drew on, Sarah witnessed the other side of the story – the parts she never viewed whilst living the episode. Everything became a lot clearer now; everyone's motive, the lies and the truth, as well as how she acted towards everyone. She was able to catch a glimpse of herself through the eyes of a spectator.

"Wow. I really do come off as a manipulative cow."

Yvonne smirked, amused by the comment. A slight chuckle escaped her lips. "Ha-ha yeah. But it's understandable why."

"Good performance. You're a talented actress."

Yvonne's eyes filled with gratitude as she glanced towards Sarah's, who's remained glued to the TV screen. "Thank you," she smiled.

Tears enveloped Sarah's eyes as she continually viewed the image shown before her; witnessing Chuck's viewpoint. She saw the car accident with her and Ellie and the despair clouding his face as he grabbed her out of the car and took her to their 'home'. The thought of him loving her to such a degree (the fact that he refused to give up on her regardless of the gun she pointed in his face) deluged her heart in his careless whimper. She saw his tears and the honesty behind them; his need to find her and the delighted expression once he had.

Other than the sound that emitted through the screen, Sarah and Yvonne's mouths remained shut; stunned by what their eyes viewed. They saw it – the beach, Chuck's entrance and Sarah's confused gaze into the distance. The moment was coming. Sarah longed for her instinct to be correct. That once they kissed on screen, she would teleport back. She could feel something supernatural was about to occur; she desperately anticipated it.

"Ow. My head," Yvonne muttered, clutching her forehead in agony. Her silent holler drew Sarah's attention towards her.

"Yvonne." Her eyes remained shut, tightened by the voluntary force. "Do you need something? Wh – is there anything that I can get you?"

"Aspirin. There's Aspirin in the kitchen; third, top cupboard from the left. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Water? Do you want some water?"

"Ow. Thank you."

Sarah darted to the kitchen to fetch the required aspirin and water. Unfortunately, the pause button on the TV remote hadn't been pressed, allowing the episode to continue.

The tale of their story – told by Chuck – came onto screen, displaying flashbacks of the life Sarah failed to recall.

She remained antsy for the kiss; praying that what she thought would be what was planned to happen. Having caught a glimpse of the last two episodes of _Chuck_, her eyes had vastly been opened. She longed to return to him and felt the pull towards him intensify. "Yvonne, thank you for helping me with all of this," she announced from the kitchen.

Silence responded.

Time progressed. She filled a glass with water. The episode continued. The kiss drew near. Nearer. Nearer. Finally, it occurred.

But Sarah had missed it.

She returned to the living room. With the expectancy that the kiss was still to occur, Sarah felt her time for departure was due. She raised her head to face Yvonne, ready to say goodbye. But as her eyes caught a glimpse of the vacant space in front of her, she knew something had gone terribly wrong. "Yvonne? Yvonne?"

…

Morgan and Chuck raced towards the vacuous beach where Chuck had been occupied earlier that day. Although their shoes created trade-marked shoeprints in the sand, the presence of Sarah's seemed non-existent.

"You see any sign of her?" Morgan queried.

"No, buddy. Not yet." Both heads shifted in all directions, constantly searching for the presence of Chuck's long lost wife.

Eventually, after having searched every edge of the beach, they decided to resort to plan B. "Chuck, let's go to Castle. Maybe she went there. Maybe Beckman would know where she is or how to find her."

"She disappeared, Morgan. She literally disappeared."

"Chuck, she is somewhere. We will find her."

"I know… Okay, plan B. Let's check out Castle. But if that doesn't work out then, Morgan; I am sorry but we will have to resort to plan C."

"Plan C? What's plan C?"

"We call Casey!"

The duo retreated from the beach with their backs facing the raging waves; when suddenly…

"What just happened? Where am I?"

The sound of an unexpected voice seized their attention. With expeditious movement, they spun around, facing the unforeseen speaker.

Yvonne's eyes caught theirs. She was just as astonished by their presence as they were by hers.

Chuck's eyes blazed with relief and mirth. _"Sarah?" _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_"Sarah!?" _ With acceleration, he darted towards her, extending his arms around her as he held her tight. "I was so worried. You just vanished. I am so happy you are back. Thank you universe! Thank you–"

Feelings of slight incertitude seeped between the walls of his mind as he recalled Sarah's void memory of their close relationship. And to vindicate his susceptibility, he also couldn't stand to blatantly presume that the kiss magically worked. In response, he pulled back, freeing her from his loveable grasp.

"Sorry, I know you probably aren't ready for that."

"No, it's fine. How did I get here?"

"More like 'where did you come from?'" Morgan uttered, making his way towards them.

Having not really taken her surroundings into consideration, Yvonne finally opened her mind to reveal to herself that she, in fact, was in the world of make-believe. She was in the world of _Chuck_.

"Wait. You're Chuck…and Morgan," she pointed, her finger facing the direction of the character she mentioned. "This is…This is...how is this happening right now?"

A frenetic cloud of worry cast a gloom over Chuck's complexion. "Sarah, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Sorry Chuck. But I'm not your Sarah."

Misunderstanding her reply, his eyes reflected the sorrow that pierced his wounded heart; making him feel as though Cupid stabbed him with a poisoned arrow. A forced smile hid his forlorn expression beneath. "No, uh, I know. You don't feel it. I was just worried –"

"No, no, Chuck. Don't think – I don't mean like that."

"Then what do you mean, Sarah – sorry, not Sarah?" Morgan questioned.

"I am someone else. My name is Yvonne."

"Oh…?"

Chuck's false look of understanding soon became replaced with an honest look of comprehension. "Oh – oh I see." He drew closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Don't worry, Sarah. We won't blow your cover."

"What?" Furrowed eyebrows soon followed her bewilder-filled question.

"Trust us, Sarah. You can trust me."

"No, no, Chuck; Morgan, listen to me. I am not Sarah. My name is Yvonne Strahovski. Sarah must still be stuck on the other side."

A muted hush of silence succeeded her baffling statement. Through lacking tacit knowledge in how to deal with Yvonne's bizarre exclamation, their mouths remained shut whilst their brains tried to rationalise what she meant.

"Really? Really?" Morgan exclaimed. Through the tone of his speech, he revealed conceited thoughts of 'superior arrogant knowledge'. "Well Sarah, how can you be on the other side of the beach if you are standing in front of us right now?"

"Beach? I never said beach?"

"Then what do you mean 'the other side'?" Chuck asked with rabid dread. "Oh. No! You don't mean death, do you?" His top lip began to tremble as he felt the pulsating horror of his wife's demise dilate through his body like a tumour.

"Don't freak out, buddy," Morgan consoled. "Clearly she means the other side of the city or like, the other side of a sports team. You know, like she is 'on the other side' of the game."

Taken aback by their ludicrous comments, Yvonne's piercing eyes continually darted from man to man.

Morgan continued, digging himself an even deeper nonsensical grave. "No, no, I know what she means. What she actually is saying is that 'Sarah' is on the other side, like the dark side of the force. She's referencing Star Wars. See, I told you. The kiss must have worked. There is no ways she watched Star Wars before she met you!"

Yvonne's mouth widened, promising the sound of words to pass through her lips, though none seemed to escape. Both Chuck and Morgan stood before her, befuddled by what she vocalised. Their dubious, yet bemused countenance expressed the clouds that overshadowed their understanding, leading Yvonne to concede that she hadn't fully explained to them the peculiar predicament that they all found themselves in. Feeling heartbroken in having to elaborate to them the false reality that remains their existence, she felt resistant; yet still saw it necessary to proceed.

"Okay, listen to me. Both of you." Their ears adhered tentatively to the sound of her feminine voice, awaiting the continuation of her explanation. "Apparently it would seem that there are two worlds – my world and your world. In my world, this world, which is your world, was created through the process of a TV show. That is why I look like Sarah – not that I am her, just that I look like her – because I played her character on the show. The TV show."

"Ah…that makes sense…" Morgan responded, maintaining a puzzled tone.

Chuck's eyes remained ablaze, widened and full of shock. In response to the gobsmacking information that his ears just absorbed, chemical reactions began to occur within his body, accentuating his confounded expression. "So what might be the name of this show?" Morgan continued.

"_Chuck_," she responded.

"Yes?"

"No, not you. The show."

"Hmm?"

"That's its name, _Chuck_."

"What's its name?"

"_Chuck_."

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

His eyebrows creased, trying to grasp the concept that Yvonne explicitly failed to elucidate.

"So Sarah, that story is great and all, but that still doesn't explain how you magically just disappeared and reappeared?" Morgan continued.

As though a volcano erupted from within her, Yvonne's blood began to boil. "You are not listening! I am not Sarah–"

"Right, sorry. Yvonne."

Her hand cupped her forehead, expressing her annoyance with their ignorance. "Everything that I have explained to you is the truth. You have got to understand. Sarah is on the other side – not a Star Wars reference, Morgan – on the other side of the universe. She is in my world. I have no idea how she got there and I have no idea how I ended up over here. But that is the honest truth. I am not undercover, I am not making up some story; I am genuinely not Sarah Walker."

Chuck's hazel eyes glared into her soul, analysing the woman that stood before him. For the first time, he took notice of her; assessing who she was rather than who she appeared to be. It seemed too supernatural for his rational mind to comprehend that she could be anyone other than Sarah Walker. But he could feel it – through actually glancing at her, analysing her expressions, movement, speech; even the fact that she was wearing entirely different clothing compared to Sarah's attire the moment she disappeared – he now understood. It wasn't Sarah that stood before him. It couldn't be.

"It's not her," he blurted.

"Really? How can you tell?"

"She's not Sarah, Morgan. I can feel it."

A glimmer of relief enwrapped her features. "Finally. So you believe me?"

"I think so. Just let me understand though. What you are saying, is basically that you are actually some actor called Yvonne and Sarah – _my_ Sarah – is stuck in some alternative reality?"

"Yes. Well, _the_ reality."

"What does that mean?"

"Um, well," her resistance augmented, "my world… that is reality…"

"Oh."

"But if your world is the real deal, where does that leave Chuck and my world? Who are we? Just characters on a TV show?" Morgan inquired.

She gulped. "…I believe so."

"What are you saying? We don't exist?"

"No. That's not what I am saying!"

"Then what do you mean?"

The lowering of her eyes expressed her dissatisfaction in elaborating. "…You're make-believe."

…

Sarah's effervescent blue eyes stared upon the monitor of Yvonne's laptop. The reflection of its light glimmered across her stilled face as she frenetically typed on the keyboard.

_Come on, Yvonne. Show me where I can find Zachary Levi_.

She searched her e-mails, hoping to find one from him. She also searched the internet, looking for his contact information. Unfortunately, Yvonne seemed to lack any social contact with her co-worker.

"Sorry, Yvonne." She knew to some extent it was an invasion of her clone's privacy. But she was doing this for non-selfish purposes. Both 'twins' were trapped in the wrong dimension and Sarah needed to make contact with the one person who supposedly had the ability to solve the dilemma.

Her eyes glanced upon Yvonne's Web History and came across her most commonly used websites. "Twitter? She has Twitter?" She clicked on the site, entering into her profile. "Please say Zachary Levi has Twitter too."

Before typing Zachary's name in the 'search' bar, her eyes took notice of the comments fans posted about the finale. 'Thank you so much for these five years,' one of the comments read.

"Oh my word. What a lovely thing to say."

More fans' reviews followed, repeating phrases such as, 'This finale has brought tears to my eyes. #goodbyechuck' and 'Never going to forget _Chuck_'.

Her heart suddenly fluttered, acknowledging the fact that it was her life that drew people to tears. It was through her predicament that millions of people around the world felt an aching pain inside their hearts. She never grasped that knowledge before but now had a clear understanding. There wasn't only a group of people back home who promised to be there for her whenever she needed a helping hand; who loved her unconditionally. Through reading the thousands of comments present on Yvonne's Twitter page, it became clear to her that there were millions of people across the _world_ that loved her, and she hadn't even met them. That feeling of security warmed her entire body, providing her hope out of the secluded shell that she felt lost in.

A minute din abruptly caught her incisive ears. In the door lock of the front door, the sound of a key turning drew her attention. She seized a pencil from the desk in her hand. The door creaked open. Her footsteps neared the 'intruder'. The audible sound of keys clattered upon a table. The sound of footsteps increased. _Closer_. Footsteps neared her. Her eyes pierced the room with their attentive gaze. _Closer_. Their faces – just about to meet – with her, just about to turn the corner…

"Yvonne, I'm sorry I stormed out earlier."

She stopped. There was no threat. It was only Tim.

Releasing a tranquil sigh, she lowered her weapon and turned the corner, exhibiting her presence to him. Startled, his body jarred, capturing his heart in a sudden momentary lapse.

"Sorry. Yvonne's not here."

"You're the other one aren't you?" She nodded. "What happened? What did you do to her?"

Her face expressed a look of perplexity. "Why would you assume I did something?"

"Did you kill her?"

Removing its perplexity, her face gleamed with dissatisfaction, glaring at him with pristine tyranny. "No." She retreated from his presence towards the laptop. "She disappeared."

"Wh – what makes you say that?" His dazed feet followed her with uncertainty.

"She's not in the house. I've searched everywhere."

"Maybe she left like I did!"

"She didn't leave."

"Yeah? How do you know?"

As she turned to face him, her eyes caught his; capturing him in her overbearing gaze. "I'm a spy. I would have heard the door open and close. Not to mention, she had a headache. She wouldn't just walk out without taking any medication first. Lastly, the television screen froze. No one paused it, I've checked. The screen won't change or turn off or anything. It's stuck."

"So?"

"I think she went through to my world just like I went through to hers."

"Oh really? And why do you think that?"

"Because it's frozen on the beach scene where Chuck and I kiss, which in that exact same moment I was brought here."

He failed to answer. With buffering eyes, he still remained dazed by her unbeknownst presence. Though, due to the short time he had to reflect, he now appeared a lot more relaxed by the odd occurrence. As she rotated towards the direction of the laptop, his feet followed her footsteps. "Wait – how do we get her back?"

"That's what I am trying to find out," she murmured, underpinning herself upon a chair in front of Yvonne's portable microcomputer.

"Hey, hey, hey! Get off of that," Tim ordered.

Ignoring his demand, she continued, "Does Yvonne by any chance have Zachary Levi's number?"

"I don't know. Possibly. I don't have or know it though. Now get away from her stuff." Disregarding him once more, she began typing 'Zachary Levi' in the search bar. "What are you doing?" he beckoned on. "Twitter? You're on her Twitter account? Get off!"

"I'm searching for Zachary Levi. You can send private messages on Twitter can't you?"

"That'll take forever."

Many different accounts came into view on the laptop screen, leaving Sarah uncertain as to which one to make contact with. "What does the little blue, white tick thing mean?"

"It means that account is the official one."

"Okay right. So this must be Zachary Levi then," she muttered, clicking on his name.

"Why are you searching for Zach anyway? What good is he going to do?"

Zachary's Twitter profile came into view. Her eyes failed to leave the screen in search of the 'private message' button. "Yvonne said he would know what to do in this sort of situation. Where is the option for a private message? All I can do is 'tweet', 'block' or 'report' him."

"It's probably because they don't follow each other on Twitter."

"They don't follow each other on Twitter? How can they not follow each other on Twitter?"

"I don't know. Now please get away from Yvonne's stuff."

"Tim, I am not snooping through any of her private information! I just need to make contact with Zachary Levi. Now is there any other way I could possibly accomplish that?"

Her persistence induced boiling lava to ascend from inside his bones. Sarah accounted for his frustration and resistance in wanting to assist her. She knew she had to persuade him somehow.

"You want Yvonne back, don't you?"

Prominently, his eyes beheld a glint of desperation. "Yes, of course I do."

"So is there any other way of making contact with Zachary Levi?" she repeated.

Through the slight of his nose, he released an irritated huff. "Skype. She uses Skype a lot. Maybe you can get hold of him with that."

"Thank you."

…

As she searched for the Skype icon, ready to video call Zach, the phone rang. Tim went to answer it.

"Hello? Oh. Speak of the devil," he exclaimed, extending the phone for Sarah to take.

"Hello?" The speaker's voice alarmed her ears. "Chuck? Is that you?"

"Ha-ha, can't get over the finale either, I see?" The oration of his speech held a flicker of sorrow, and sniffles could be heard behind the jovial expression of his voice.

"Oh. Zachary Levi…" she stated with disappointment; until she recalled her need to find him. "Wait – Zachary Levi?" Tim nodded.

"Good guess. I was beginning to wonder if I sounded too feminine on the phone. Did you watch it? I am crying like a baby over here. I have been calling everyone and no one can stop crying!"

"–Zachary, I need your help."

"Oh, yeah? Sure. What's wrong, Yvonne?"

"No. This isn't Yvonne."

"Oh… Tim? You still on the phone? Ha-ha, sorry dude. You sounded just like Yvonne!"

"This is Sarah Walker. I know that doesn't make sense right now, but I can explain it all to you later."

"What?"

"I need you to come over as soon as possible."

"Huh?"

"I can't explain over the phone. How long will it take for you to get here?"

"Uh, I don't – I don't know. Why?"

"Because you're my only hope in getting back to Chuck."

"…Are you drunk?"

…

With a persistent stare, Morgan's tenacious eyes failed to depart from the TV, analysing the movie on screen.

"Are you real too, Star Wars?" he queried, loud enough for Chuck and Yvonne to hear. "Please come to life. Please come to life."

"Morgan, buddy; concentrate," Chuck exclaimed.

Seated inside his apartment, he and Yvonne sat by the dining table, contemplating ways in which they could solve the mysterious dilemma.

"Maybe we could try calling Sarah? Her number might work."

"I don't know, Yvonne. I mean, it wouldn't really help if she left her phone behind and I guess, even if it is with her, then I doubt we will be able to make contact with a whole other universe."

"Yeah. But just imagine the phone bill if we did!" Morgan yelled from the couch in front of the TV. "If it costs a lot to phone internationally imagine what it would cost to phone universally."

They both chose to ignore his comment. "Hmm…why don't we call Beckman?" Yvonne suggested.

"Beckman? Why? Do you think she can help?"

"Perhaps. Isn't it likely for the CIA to have a top secret teleportation device that could send me back and bring Sarah back here?"

They stared at her, astounded by her notion. "Ha-ha, Yvonne, you watch too many movies," Chuck remarked.

Affronted, she chuckled with genuine amazement. "This coming from the biggest nerd I know."

He smiled, amused by her ease with confronting the obvious. After every slight glance or so, he would catch her eye and be reminded of Sarah. Her entire appearance admonished him of Sarah. In some way it calmed him, lighting the fireplace of his heart. But in a negative sense, she acted as a constant reminder that Sarah wasn't there, and that stabbed him internally; blowing out the fireplace of his heart and leaving behind nothing but ash.

Morgan removed himself from the couch leaving a sunken rear mark on the surface where he sat. "Yvonne, how did you manage to get here? I mean, something must have happened. Maybe we could use that in order to take you back."

"Oh. Well…um, I was watching the finale…of the show. Then my headache started to worsen–"

"Maybe your headache had something to do with it?" Chuck exclaimed with excitement, "That always happens on TV. The person gets a throbbing headache and then something goes wrong."

"Look who's watching too many movies now," Yvonne amicably japed. "I vanished from my world the moment you and Sarah kissed at the beach. Maybe that means something?"

Chuck's eyes abruptly jounced open. "That's the same moment she disappeared…" A thought struck his head, transfixing his nerves with a sense of hope. "Guys, I have an idea."

…

"Wait, wait, wait – so you are telling me that you – Sarah Walker – disappeared from your world and came here; whereas Yvonne disappeared from this world into yours? And now you are stuck in each other's world, hopelessly trying to find a way back?" Zach questioned. Standing in Yvonne's living room, his darting eyes perforated those that stood before him – Tim and Sarah.

"It's pretty creepy, isn't it?" Yvonne's boyfriend stated.

"Creepy? The word 'creepy' doesn't even begin to describe it."

Sarah faced down; her distressed eyes arbitrarily staring at the ground below. She couldn't help but wonder whether he would be able to help her at all; or whether his resistance and cynicism would permit him not to.

"No, 'creepy' is not the word I am looking for," Zach continued. "No, this is…this is more like '_awesome'_!" Tim and Sarah shook their heads in sudden confusion – _What?_

"How cool is this? You know, besides for the whole issue of returning everyone to their rightful place and all, this is freaking amazing! I – well you too, Tim. Can't leave you out of this – are actually standing in front of Sarah Walker right now. _Sarah Walker_! There is so much that I have always wanted to ask you and Chuck. _So much_."

She smiled with relief. "So I am guessing you believe me?"

"Well it seems less plausible not to. Just one question though."

"Yeah?"

"You said you needed me. Why me?"

"Oh, well Yvonne said you would know what to do in this sort of situation–"

"Well of course. This sort of thing happens to me all the time," he teased.

"So that explains why you handled it so well," Tim remarked.

"Why would she assume you would know what to do?" Sarah inquired.

"Probably because I'm a nerd for videogames and Sci-Fi movies. They use teleportation in films like _Star Trek_."

"Oh yes, the Transporter platform on the USS Enterprise," she informed.

Zach's hazel eyes lit up with stunned amazement as they stared into hers, bewildered by her response. "Yeah…how did you know that?"

She simpered with delight. "Chuck forced me to watch it."

"Yeah, no doubt about that. But you said that the kiss never worked…How did you remember?"

Cottoning on to what Zach was implying, her face expressed the bewilderment that clouded her passing thoughts. "I – I don't know…"

Through examining her occasional regression of forgotten memories, Zach acknowledged the relevance of its return. He understood that colouring in the void spaces of her forgotten life would be just as important as reverting her back to the world of _Chuck_. He just prayed that he would figure out how to do just that.

…

Chuck jolted up, applying excess pressure onto his feet. "Yvonne, you said that our whole life is a TV show. If that is so, then possibly we can make contact with Sarah on the other side."

"Okay…not really following…" she remarked with confusion.

"Think about it. All we have to do is re-enact an episode or a scene from the TV series; well, our life. Sometime, somewhere in your world, someone must be watching an episode of the show. If we can perform a scene the exact same time that someone from you world watches it, then possibly we will have full control over what happens next, blurring the line that separates fiction from reality."

Confounded expressions blankly stared back at him. "Still not following…"

"Maybe we can make up the story. Pretend that the CIA really does have a teleportation device. You can use it to return to your world and then – ya, okay never mind, this isn't really working…"

Their frustrated, downtrodden faces vacantly stared into the distance. Yvonne bit her inner gums, thinking deeply for a solution out of this predicament. Fear, being the weeds of their mind, began to sprout rapidly, planting doubt inside their thoughts – what if they don't figure something out? What if Yvonne is stuck there…forever? What if Sarah never returns? What if –

"Anyone up for pizza?" Morgan offered.

"Pizza? Yes please, buddy."

"Ooh, make believe pizza. Sounds just as good."

…

"All right Sarah, Tim; we know that right now, Yvonne is probably working with Chuck on a plan to get them out of this situation. And we know that they won't stop for nothing in order to succeed," Zach stated.

"So your plan is…to wait?" Sarah remarked with derogatory slight.

Tim grunted. "Sounds like a plan…"

"No, listen. My plan is to beat them to it. Sarah, earlier you mentioned that both you and Yvonne disappeared when the final, magical kiss occurred."

"Yeah…"

"So if she disappeared because of the kiss just like you did, then maybe all you have to do is watch the kiss again. That might take you back and return Yvonne as well."

"But that's not what happened last time. Last time Yvonne was the only one that teleported. How are we supposed to ensure that we _both_ get transported back?"

"Eh – I don't know. But maybe seeing as you both were in the same universe, only one person could teleport at a time." Her face beheld a glint of disbelief. "Look, there is no proof that this will work. But it is worth a shot, Sarah."

"So you are saying that is all I have to do? Watch the finale again?"

"Yes, I think so. Everything seems to revolve around the kiss. It has to be the kiss! Maybe it _is _magical."

"Well then let's stop dawdling and watch that episode." An eager sense of determination radiated through her voice. Though, Zach wasn't ready to let her leave just yet.

"Wait," he blurted. "This may work and you may return home, but that's not good enough." Her eyebrows furrowed, perplexed and worried by what he was about to say next. "If I am anything like Chuck – and I am – then I would know that there is nothing more important to him than getting you back."

"Well right now there is nothing more important to me either."

"I know." His concerned eyes focussed on hers as she emitted a look of mistrust upon her face. "You are going to return home, Sarah. But first, you are not going back broken."

"What?"

"In this world, your life has been recorded. Do you know what that means? It means that we have your memories…on video."

The weary glare of perplexity shrouding her complexion soon faded the moment she acknowledged Zach's notion. He wasn't threatening her chances of reverting back to her world. He was encouraging her chances of remembering; of witnessing all the stories Chuck told her; of obtaining the five years that she lost and of recalling her feelings and love for Chuck. He was providing her with an opportunity of receiving a bountiful life; not endangering her chances of returning to an empty one.

"What are you saying?" she inquired. Her thoughts never validated the meaning behind his conception and she needed substantial proof; she required his word.

"Sarah, I am saying we are going to help you remember."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A gentle breeze brushed against the delicate hairs coating Chuck's arm as he opened the front door of his apartment, signalling Morgan's departure. The energetic Grimes receded from his seat, ready to venture back home.

"You know what I can't understand? If we were created then why couldn't I have been made more handsome? Taller? Italian?"

A titter escaped Chuck's lips, accompanying his broadened smile. The friendly reveal of his teeth matched the welcoming personality of the Nerd Herd employee.

Yvonne laughed. "You are a great guy, Morgan, in this world and in mine." Like the criss-crossed letter 'X', her leg wrapped over the other, seated on Chuck's living room couch. Extending her arm, she placed an empty plate stained with pizza smudges upon the table in front of her.

"And…how's my doppelganger's beard?"

"Beard?"

"Answer the question, woman!"

"He has a beautiful beard."

A smug look of delight appeared perched on his face. "Hmm, my other self has good taste."

Chuck clutched his friend's shoulders, accentuating his extensive height over Morgan's. With relaxed sincerity, he stated, "Come on, buddy. Alex is waiting."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight Yvonne." His feet delicately passed the threshold of Chuck's apartment, on his way to his own.

"Goodnight," she shouted in return.

Following his departure, Chuck waved his friend goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Turning to face the Sarah-look-a-like, her eyes lit up with sweet amiability. It was very _Sarah_; comforting, welcoming and non-judgemental towards him. He felt slightly gawky in her presence; her being the attractive woman and him being the nerd-herder at the Buy More. But it was common knowledge that time had passed on and his boring, useless life had drastically altered into a life of a world class superspy. Yvonne of all people knew that. He was more sophisticated and successful now, following his prosperity in obtaining the woman of his dreams. There was no plausible reason for his feelings of inferiority when alone in her presence.

Upon noticing the uncleansed plates that occasionally lured a few flies towards the table, Chuck decided to take them to the kitchen to begin the cleaning process. Having removed them from their prior placement, his legs carried him towards the kitchen as he passed Yvonne. Her hand brushed away a few strands of blond hair that overshadowed her face.

"So…" she muttered, attempting to spark conversation. Chuck's mind, on the other hand, couldn't conjure up a casual dialogue. His thoughts were too occupied with questions regarding Sarah, desperately aching to find answers that only Yvonne could provide.

She lifted herself from the comfortable couch, facing the man washing dishes before her. "So…I think I better be on my way as well–"

"You can stay here tonight," he blurted, halting all action. "I have a spare room that you may sleep in…if you want?"

"Oh. Are you sure?"

"Where else would you go?" His face filled with a half-quirky smile, re-emphasising his friendly nature.

"Doesn't Sarah still have that apartment? You know; the green one? The _really_ green one…" He laughed. "It's really green!"

"I like the green," he grinned.

"Ha-ha, me too."

The gawky smile faded as he dug his hands into his back pockets. Upon doing so, the once folded sleeves from his shirt unravelled, reaching the sill of his wrists. "Uh, well I'm not sure if she left the apartment or not. But if you would prefer to go, I don't mind–"

"Chuck. I'll stay," she reassured, her complexion emitting a sense of comfort and security.

Smiling once more, the bright illumination that followed each Chuck-grin caused a beam of jubilance to lighten the room in a sound of serene repose. He had that amazing effect on people. With a single smile, he could remove all overbearing tension and stress and supersede it with a calming sense of awakening slumber.

"Well, I better finish cleaning up."

…

With folded arms, Zach stood beside Tim, eying down Sarah Walker who remained calmly seated in the living room. "All right, so according to my estimations," Zach stated, "you will need to watch seven episodes a day – at least – if you want to return to your world in thirteen days."

"Wow how did you work that out so quickly?" Sarah exclaimed.

"Popularity was not my strong point in High School. So anyway, what do you say, Sarah? Let's get started!" Her gulp revealed a lack of ease in fulfilling this _Chuck_ marathon task. After all, witnessing your life on screen and acknowledging that plenty of other people have seen it too – and probably know your life better than you do – must motivate some resistance. Though, her nod displayed the need she felt to watch it. Besides for the angst and slight disgust, excitement sprouted from within. This, of course, was not a normal situation and most amnesia-stricken patients often never receive such a chance to reconcile the forgotten life that they once possessed. "Ha, the popcorn! Tim, you got popcorn right?" Zach remarked with sudden excitation.

"Uh, yeah. I think so. In the kitchen." Tim's dazed eyes still concealed confusion, though his mouth refused to state so.

"Awesome. Sarah, you stick in the first DVD. I'll go make the popcorn."

"You can't use this TV. It's stuck on that scene from the finale remember," Tim reported.

"Then we will use your other one!" Zac shouted, his voice booming from the kitchen.

Standing muddled in the presence of a thought-to-be fictional character, Tim couldn't help but still stare at Sarah with wonder. His body and mind had accepted the fact that she was real – just as real as any other breathing human being. Still, the despair shrouding the thought that she might be the cause of Yvonne's disappearance continued to nag at his sleeve. Not to mention, she acted as a walking, talking memento. Her identical appearance to his lost girlfriend constantly reminded him of her evanescence. He couldn't help but stare at her, watching her search for the _Chuck_ DVD collection. Once sought, he witnessed her face convolve into a dismal frown as she stared upon the cover of the season one DVD pack. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she murmured.

"Tim." He displaced himself from the lounge and neared the caller. "Hey, Tim, where do you keep the popcorn? Like, which cupboard?"

He went to collect it, placing it in the microwave for a few minutes and waited.

"Zach, I got to ask you." He rested his palms against one of the kitchen counters.

"Shoot."

"How are you so chilled about all of this? I mean, getting over the fact that she is a walking, talking human being is hard enough," the volume of his voice decreased, fearing Sarah's inquisitive ears from adhering to the conversation, "but then to actually get yourself to sit down and watch the _Chuck _series with her is like…creepy."

The relaxed smile encasing Zach's face confused Tim further. Prominently polar opposite, Zach's cordial gleam provided contrast to Tim's torpidity. "This is like, the coolest thing that could ever happen in our lives. And you are ruining it by running away. Accept it."

"Yeah? And what if Yvonne never returns? Huh? What happens then? Sarah becomes _her_? Do I just accept that?"

"Relax. We will get her back." In an attempt to calm and free him from his trial of worries, Zach pat him on the back, providing the illusion of a male bonding ritual.

The sound of the Chuck theme song emanated from the lounge. The DVD was in. All Sarah had to do was press play. "I'm ready," she shouted.

"Coming," Zach responded. His eyes then glued to the man that stood before him, speaking in a softened hush. "You can either stay and watch with us or avoid this whole situation completely. Either way, this is happening." The microwave beeped; Zach extracted the popcorn and ventured towards where Sarah resided, ready to watch the first episode of the thrilling series.

…

Laughter eluded from the chortling mouths which encapsulated the room in a cheery din. Following the gleeful chatter between Chuck and Yvonne, tears of joy trickled down their broadened cheeks.

"Ha-ha, Jeffster never gets old," Yvonne tittered, wiping away the stream of water that cased round the brim of her lower eyelid. Steam followed in a vertical direction, ascending from the heated mug that she clutched in her hand.

Like the food vacuole of an _Amoeba_, Chuck's lips trapped a portion of genial coffee in his mouth.

"Ha-ha, I mean come on; if you want to pull off a scheme at least try to stay in the wheelchair, Jeff!"

"I actually remember watching that scene. I wasn't in it, but I laughed so much when I saw it." She giggled, amused by the memory.

Appearing lost down memory-lane; his focussed eyes stared blankly forward as he gently stroked the coffee mug that lay cupped in his hands. "Yeah, I remember. I would come home and tell Sarah what silly act Jeff and Lester had pulled that day." A delicate smile extended from the margin of his lips. "She used to laugh and laugh…I almost wanted to be able to tell her the story over again, just to witness her reaction once more."

Gazing at his reminiscent eyes, she felt a wave of compassion sweep over her. She understood the pain that he must have been feeling but still couldn't quite comprehend it. For five years he fought for the woman who supposedly was out of his reach; won her over and married her; then he lost her, was told that the woman he loved was 'gone' and following that was the dreaded acknowledgement that she never loved him like she once did anymore. To add to the tragedy, she now remained astray in an entirely different dimension, completely out of reach. Of course Yvonne couldn't comprehend the heartache, but she clearly understood that it was there.

Although her mind clustered with options regarding a response, her mouth seemed uncertain as to which option she should use first. Her silence reflected this internal vacillation.

"You know, the best day of my life was the day she came and told me that she loved me. No, wait; my best moment was actually when she kissed me for the first time," Yvonne placed her mug on the table; her ear steadfastly listening to his every word, "because not only did I survive a supposed bomb explosion, but for those few seconds all the confusion seemed to suddenly sweep away. That was the first time I was actually certain she had feelings for me, because _she_ kissed _me_. Of course, that was all ruined after Bryce decided to give life another chance. But that still never changed the fact that Sarah chose to kiss me instead of run away. You know right now, the further she seems to drift away from me, the more I think about that day. The day the nerd got the girl, even if it was for just a few seconds. I mean that moment paved the way for all the other great memories that she and I made together. I guess that's why it kind of resonates with me. It stood as the beginning of our relationship, even though we only started dating – officially – about two years later."

Feeling calmed by the poetic tale that escaped Chuck's lips, Yvonne's elbow nestled gently against the top-back part of the couch, with the side of her head resting against her smooth palm. "You are being very open," she released.

"Well you guys basically invented my life. I think this is a safe environment to express my feelings," he proclaimed.

Her lips widened, revealing an enlightened smile beneath. An enchanting sound of titter soon followed. "Good point."

"Do you think I'll lose her? Yvonne?" He electrocuted the calm environment with a stupefying conundrum.

"What?"

"If she returned, I mean. I won't blame her, she deserves to be happy. And if she did find happiness without me then I would let her –"

"Stop. Chuck. Stop. Sarah loves you."

"She doesn't remember me."

"No, Chuck. She loves you."

His disbelieving eyes blazed into hers. "She said she doesn't feel it. I think I get the picture."

Lowering her eyes, her lips widened with the promise of words able to calm his fragile heart. This entire predicament had left him frazzled and vulnerable, and Yvonne needed to find the words that would help wound his deepened scars. "When I saw Sarah, when she came to my apartment; one of the first things she said to me – after she attacked me – was that she needed to get back home. She said she needed to get back to you. Finding you was her main priority. If you didn't – if you weren't significant enough in her life she wouldn't have mentioned your name...several times."

Staring blankly, once again, into the distance, the look of loss and darkened grief could be seen through the hollow gaze of his sunken eyes. Feeling the forlorn fear of what he believed to be the supposed inevitable, a clouding wave of tears enwrapped the greyed, hazel windows of his soul. Like the tragic swayed lines of a melancholy artist's painting, the occasional cascade of woeful water stained his cheeks, accentuating the current fragility of his mind and spirit. A tint of red flared round the fringe of his eyelids, acting as an illusion of the Red Sea.

"I miss her," he quivered.

"Well you won't for long, Chuck. She always comes back to you. Rather choose to remember that."

…

"All right," Zach propped himself on the couch, popcorn in hand, "You ready?" With the added anticipation, popcorn, comfy seating and dimmed lights that darkened the room in a starless night, the viewing felt far too professional; as though the blinking of their eyes had transported them to a world class movie theatre.

Tim's fast pace from the kitchen distracted Zach's eyes towards the front door where he grasped its handle. "Where are you off to?" Zach questioned.

"Forgot. I have work to go to." He forced himself out the door, closing it behind him.

"Enjoy." Zach's gaze returned towards the nervous woman beside him. "You ready to press play?" Her hand slithered over the turbulent surface of the 'play' button, feeling uncertain whether to press down on it, which would order the screen into moving forward with the episode. Staring upon the stilled screen, her heart momentarily overwrote her excitement with worry. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice drenched in compassionate interest. "Nerves?"

She failed to make eye-contact, maintaining her anxious stare forward. "What if I am disappointed?"

With bulging eyes, he spoke with comical disgust. "Disappointed? I worked really hard on this TV series I'll have you know!"

"Ha-ha, no. I don't mean it like that. What if I don't like myself…or approve of what I've done?"

The lines of his forehead creased in response to his surprise. "You don't need approval, you're Sarah Walker; the coolest person I know." She puffed as the corners of her lips curved into an amused smile. "Do you think I would have married you if you weren't?"

Her head jolted in his direction, shooting him a blistering look of shock. "What?"

"Well, Chuck I mean. It's an actor thing…you know, to say 'you' when addressing your charac – never mind."

To add vapour to the awkward air, her eyes glanced sideways as she stroked the back of her neck in slight discomfort. "Yeah…"

So…anyway, pressing play–"

"–Pressing play."

In a single moment, the Chuck marathon had begun, and Sarah was about to retrieve the five lost years of her life back again.

…

After a few days of the _Chuck_ marathon, Sarah and Zach had switched homes, having the viewing rather at his house to spare Tim the frustration and electricity bill. Through this, he was able to provide her with a place to stay, allowing her to sleep in the spare bedroom of his home.

Over the course of two weeks, the forgotten memory that lay locked inside the chambers of Sarah's mind opened their bolted doors and revealed themselves to their host. Like an external party – an outside viewer – she began to develop the same responses of a 'Chuckster', as though she were one herself. She saw how agonisingly painful it was for Chuck to be told – even after being possessed by the Truth Serum – that their relationship will never go anywhere. However, she did analyse herself, knowing already that she had been taught to withstand _Pentothal's_ power of honesty, and saw how she longed to tell Chuck the truth, acknowledging what the truth actually was. Sarah also witnessed the dolorous death of Bryce…and then witnessed it again. For most viewers, having to view Bryce's death is tragic, especially when acknowledging the other character's feelings. But for Sarah, being the most unlikely viewer, it remained heart-breaking beyond belief. Having to witness your partner die – twice – isn't the easiest thing to watch, and the sprout of tears masking her eyes helped display this. Not to mention the persistent commentary from Zach added to her frustration. "Well, one can definitely understand why you dated him," he proclaimed. Apparently, something 'needed' to be said about almost absolutely everything and his voice had been provided with the honour of doing so.

"You know, maybe I should watch on my own," she offered.

"Shh, don't talk. This is a very important part. This is when –" She abruptly froze the screen. "No! No, no pauses. It ruins the magic!"

"Why do you have to provide a commentary for everything that happens?"

"Well actually, there is a commentary on the two hour season finale season five box set. You should watch it when it comes out. Hey! We can watch it…together…" His eyes took notice of her frustrated expression. "Sorry."

The episodes continued, delving deep into the heart of Chuck and Sarah's relationship. Sarah couldn't quite explain the rising jealousy when Lou walked into the Buy More. From the moment she saw her – even before Lou and Chuck started dating – she felt a pulsating envy overcome her. But witnessing her response then – five years ago – was embarrassing enough. Each episode acted as a refresh button, re-installing lost memories back into her head. Through the course of season one, she began to remember the envious feelings clouding her judgement through the experience of it once more. Though it was definitely well rewarded the instant she viewed herself kissing Chuck for the first time. She had been informed of this moment. The day she opened the gate to her feelings and rushed outside to welcome Chuck in.

The broadest smile enwrapped her features, illuminating her eyes with an ecstatic gleam. Although, the scene remained bittersweet – they either get together but both die or they don't die and then can't be together – it was soon followed by an unwelcoming obstacle: the ex, Bryce Larkin. Although his return did add a few spices to their bowl of harmonious punch, it did serve as the first time Sarah chose Chuck over another man. She _stayed_. Through recognising and witnessing this, the line preventing her feelings from crossing over into Chuck territory slowly began to unravel, making it clear to her how much she required this adorable, loving man in her life.

But then came Jill. Upon the first episode of her encounter, Sarah felt a vulnerable sense of worry umbrage her heart under the shading eclipse of night. A sense of mistrust consumed her and so feared the puppy dog responses of Chuck towards 'the one that got away'. But more than that, a fear of loss daunted upon her sky. _What if Jill took Chuck away? _Sarah from the future, at that point, failed to know the outcome. Although she did recognise that Chuck married _her_ instead of his ex, she still lacked knowledge as to why. Possibly Jill broke his heart and side-lined his feelings towards Sarah; leaving her as rather the rebound instead of the catch. Of course that wasn't the case. However, not reaching that far in the series, she hadn't obtained knowledge of that yet.

She even became annoyed with _herself_ when good ol' Cole came into the picture. Like a sports fanatic rooting for their favourite team to win, Sarah desperately ached for her and Chuck to finally become a couple. Obviously she understood why – at that point – they strictly weren't allowed to, but nevertheless grasped hold of the dream that sometime down the road they would. That made it even more agonising and heart-breaking to watch the moment she chose Chuck over Cole; only to be told by him that they couldn't live together. Although never stated, Sarah knew what she felt at the time. She desperately desired to join houses with him, being closer to him without 'breaking any rules'. In a sense, his speech as to 'why they couldn't' flavoured her ego (being informed of his feelings for her), but also broke her heart simultaneously.

However, the biggest pangs experienced stemmed from the occurrences in season three. By the end of season two, she felt certain that her and Chuck would start dating officially from there onwards. Nothing screams 'I love you' more than 'I'd rather go to jail or worse than let you live _your_ life in one'. Though, the antagonising pierce of rejection punctured her heart like a blade sawing through her spine. She remembered that feeling. She _loathed_ that feeling. Chuck's choice to rather be a spy than run away with her, gnawed at her pride. Viewing season three was, needless to say, difficult. A lot of emotions ran wild within her and Zach occasionally gave her a calming smile to show her she wasn't alone. To once again experience all the horrid emotions that have plagued your life doesn't sound very inviting. And here she was, forced to view them from a different angle with the possibility of being able to rewind and repeat. It was hard; but it was worth it.

With the welcoming of Hannah and Shaw, her emotions went slightly haywire. Every time Hannah's face pestered the screen with its presence, Sarah persistently ached to punch it. She wasn't sure why; Hannah seemed 'lovely' and 'great'. But her body filled with vex each time she thought of Hannah and Chuck together; and the scenes which displayed this wasn't much help either. In a way, she saw this as a vindication for dating Shaw; among many other reasons. She didn't want to be hurt by Chuck again and feared his adaptation from man to spy. Shaw seemed like a safe haven to her – having a man save your life tends to that; generate a feeling of safety – but it was most definitely an attempt to move on. Although, the Sarah from the future didn't want her to; the Sarah from the future was a Charah supporter; and not necessarily by choice. She instantly knew from the bottom of her heart that Chuck and her were meant to be, because Chuck and her just seemed _right_. He was her object of desire, representing everything that she has ever wanted out of life. And through watching her life unfold through the process of a TV show, she came to realise this. She didn't like Shaw, she didn't even fancy him. In fact, each scene with her and him together planted a look of abhorrence upon her face. She felt foolish in dating him and even more daft once he turned out to be the bad guy.

Though, all the angst and fret paid off near the end of season three. Witnessing the moment she and Chuck officially set their relationship in stone, it sank in that she had developed feelings for him, strong feelings. She couldn't shake the jovial expression off her face. Zach remained excited for her as well, seeing the sparkle in her eyes ignite. A beam of light emitted from the lamp beside the living room couch of Zach's home; reflected onto her cheeks, adding illumination to their already luminous glow.

"We don't break up again do we?" she asked.

"Break up? When did we start going out?" he jested. She glared at him, leaving a half-amused, half-unimpressed expression sprained across her face. "Well actually, the story ends tragically with Lady Walker losing her memories and with Mr Carmichael forever trying to win back her love." Her friendly glare soon faded, its replacement being heartbreak. "What a cow, huh?" he joked, trying to wipe away her saddened countenance. She released a whiff of air through her nose, signalling her lack of concentration and amusement. "…But that all changes when she disappears into another world and regains her memory; allowing her to return home, no longer broken…"

With tired eyes, she looked to him with hope, a friendly smile prominent on her face. "This is all in the past, Sarah. You control what happens in your future." The darkened colour of night shadowed the dim room, leaving only the lamp beside the couch and the reflection of the TV screen providing illumination.

As he looked upon her complexion, seeing the beauty that emanated from her features, he knew Chuck had found the perfect woman and understood how lucky he was to have found her. Though, through losing a woman like Sarah Walker, it does tend to make a person feel that they may never find someone like her again. "Chuck loves you," Zach re-instated.

Her hand rubbed her eye, feeling fatigue overwhelm her. Her drowsy state hindered her ability to continue a conversation that didn't revolve around the topic of bedtime slumber. "I think it's about time I went to bed. We've watched more than enough episodes in one day."

"Oh. Yeah. Uh…see you tomorrow then."

Having removed herself from the couch, she turned to face Zach one last time before venturing off to bed, gracing him with the presence of a smile. "Goodnight, Zach."

His eyes stared forward, gnawing at his inner gums. Her bedroom door gently closed behind her. "Goodnight, Sarah."

…

Through the two weeks that passed, Sarah and Zachary as well as Yvonne and Chuck became really good friends, bonding over the spoiled milk that remained their lives for the time-being. Chuck took Yvonne to see Castle, making her glow with excitement. She even visited _The Orange Orange_ and _The Wienerlicious_, often being questioned whether she 'still worked there'. And to add to her field trip was the welcoming visit to the Buy More. Evidently, it wasn't the same as it would have been viewing it a few weeks prior. Jeffster had departed and Subway was planting their foot among Buy More ground. Though it did instil prosperous memories for her to take back home, if she ever got the chance. Though, an even grander memory installed was the viewing pleasure of witnessing the Intersect in action. Chuck gave her a demonstration on his combat and language skills, allowing her to catch a glimpse of its intricacies. It did add amusement and fun to her 'trip' after experiencing a 'friendly fight' with the Intersect. And nearly winning did help her feel proud of herself. On the negative side, their plans for helping Yvonne return to her world still remained slim.

Zachary and Sarah also became quite close. He would constantly pester her and frustrate her with his never-ending queries on the world of _Chuck_; though his quirky sense of humour kept her entertained and reminded her of someone she missed back home, leaving her something to look forward to. They became good friends over the course of two weeks, talking about their lives, with him asking her plenty of questions about hers. One of the most frequent queries was in regard to her true identity. He would continually nag at her sleeve, begging for her to disclose to him what her real surname was. His constant whine tormented her ears as he repeatedly stated that in his world it doesn't matter; but her spy training had drilled her into never revealing her birth name. Not to mention, so did her dad. 'You never reveal who you are because that is what gets you caught/killed'. And so she never did. But the highlight of their last week as roommates was them watching the final two seasons of _Chuck_ together.

Seeing her relationship with Chuck unfold; watching all the issues that they experienced together as well as the beautiful development of their relationship, she couldn't help but fall in love with him all over again. Every humourous remark that passed his lips, every welcoming smile that enwrapped his features and every good deed done by him out of the kindness of his soul, prevented her from ever comprehending the idea of walking away. And so with each day that passed, her anticipation for her return grew.

Season four, episode eight and nine, really hit home. It felt far too familiar; as though their predicament now mirrored their predicament , captured and helpless without her acquiring the jurisdiction to save him, left her consumed by an overbearing sense of _numbness_. Seated constantly at the edge of her seat, she feared what would happen to him. Watching herself on screen unable to live without him acted as a reminder of how life may turn out if she never returned home. But most importantly, it became so adamantly clear, through those two episodes, that Sarah Walker could not live without Chuck Bartowski. For the past few weeks her life had seemed like a mirror coated with steam. She had been blinded by her amnesia, unable to take a good look at herself in the mirror. But through the revelation of her forgotten past, she now had the ability to wipe away the steam and glance at her daunting reflection. And the face she viewed in the mirror wasn't hers, but rather the person that reflected the better Sarah Walker – Chuck Bartowski.

As they watched episode nine of season four unfurl, Zach grasped hold of her clenched hand, trying to relax and give her someone to lean on. Regardless, the sound of gnawing beavers from the biting of her nails persisted. The narrow air between their hands compressed as she tautened her grip of his. Though for a man of many words, he remained silent.

As time passed on, more episodes were absorbed through Sarah's eyes, helping her rekindle the life she once lost. One of the most interesting episodes for her was the finale of season four. She never thought she would be the one to settle down, always assuming that marriage would be one small step for ordinary woman and one giant leap for Sarah Walker! But it seemed likely for her to take that extra leap with Chuck. It made sense. Though, the finale also helped her grasp the extent of Chuck's love for her. Failing to recall her near death experience, she couldn't help but stop the tears in her eyes from falling as she witnessed Chuck stop at nothing to ensure she stays alive. It seemed impossible to decide on what was more heart-breaking – her death or Chuck's life without her?

"All right. You excited? You ready? Here we are, about to press play on the finale. How do you feel?" Zach asked, excitement germinating through his voice.

"Wow, can you believe it? Two weeks went by so quickly."

"Well that's what happens when you sit around watching TV all day!" With the remote cupped in his palms, his hands extended towards her, standing before her like the queen. "I bestow upon you, Sarah Walker, this remote," he stated, mimicking the formality of the English monarchy. "You hereby possess the power to press play on the last episode of your life. May you experience many more days to come once you return to your world. And well, I would say 'keep in touch', but that seems highly unlikely." She chuckled. "Do you accept this offering my dear lady?"

She propped herself up from the couch, standing before him. "Well if you must insist."

"Oh, but thy do insist, madam. As thou –"

"Okay, you can stop now, Zach."

"Right."

With the 'play' button pressed, the finale of the _Chuck_ series began, her eyes viewing it for the second time. The moment came. The kiss drew near. Her eyes caught Zach's, glistening in anticipation. Chuck and Sarah's lips were about to meet. _Nearer_. _Closer_. _Pause_ – what?

"No! Sarah. I though we clarified this. No pauses. It's like saying 'I don't believe in fairies' and meaning it. Fairies die, Sarah. Magic dies when you press that pause button!"

Her hand began to tremble as a beckoning thought corrupted her mind. "What if I will seize to exist?" She shot him a look of fear. "What if my story ends with this scene and the only thing that has been keeping me alive is the fact that I am in the wrong universe. Your writers won't write my life anymore. You – you won't…you won't be Chuck anymore."

He stared upon the look of dread that overshadowed her complexion, feeling compassion and concern override his prior feelings. "Sarah, how can you still think like that? Look at you. Here. I doubt Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz, the creators of the show, are writing your words right now. You're your own person." Although slightly calmer, her face still beheld a portion of anxiety. In response, he neared her slightly quivering body, with his leg reaching hers on the couch. His face drew close to hers, allowing her eyes to clearly witness the honesty lurking within his. "As long as there are episodes, conversations or pictures of the TV show – of your life, you will never seize to exist. Because until all that fades away, you will still have a life of your own where your words aren't scripted; where your thoughts aren't analysed by the actor who portrays you." His hand grasped her shoulder, initiating an act of endearment. Their eyes still gazed into each other's, never losing their continual stare. "And just to be certain, I'll watch an episode every single day to ensure you never fade from existence."

A minute glimmer of a grin suddenly appeared upon her face as the slight corner of her lips lifted. "Thank you."

His face emitted a broader smile. "So are you going to press play?"

The DVD resumed and the Sarah and Chuck on screen finally kissed.

Zach glanced away, acknowledging the dreaded moment had finally arrived. He hid the thin layer of water that covered his eyes. The brim of his eyelids filled with diminutive tear drops, darkening the colour of his lashes. He would never see her again. It seemed so final. So _abrupt_. The palm of his hand brushed away the river that streamed his cheeks and he lowered his head, feeling bewildering grief ingest him.

In the corner of his eye, the appearance of a body caught his attention. With jolted shock he turned to face her. "Zach, is something wrong?" Filled with perplexity her eyebrows furrowed into a muddled frown.

"Uh…wait – why are you still here?"

"I don't know. I just…stayed. Nothing happened. And then you started to cry and – and I didn't know what to do."

His eyes bulged, as though the demon of abashment knocked on his heart. "Oh…"

…

The front door of Chuck's apartment burst open. Yvonne's face appeared through the door, dressed in hiking attire. Her black shorts were accompanied by her blue, sleeve-less shirt that remained slightly pattered with perspiration. Chuck made his appearance, dropping bags filled with water down beside the front door. Seemingly weakened by the heat of the day, his droopy eyes reflected his drained energy. Profuse perspiration dripped down from the edge of his forehead nestling near the top of his brow. "Phew, it is weird that it's so hot today," he panted. She nodded in reply whilst dunking down a bottle of icy water to replenish her thirst.

A rhythmic knock soon followed. "You guys back. Did you speak to Beckman?" Morgan inquired, entering into his friend's home.

"Yes, and she said 'no, the CIA does not have a secret teleportation device,'" Chuck replied.

"Well maybe she just thinks that because it is a _secret_." his hands grasped his love handles, supplying Chuck with a look of disapproval.

"Morgan, I have the Intersect. If there was some secret teleportation device I think I'd know about it."

Yvonne removed herself from the room, carrying the empty water bottles stacked in their hiking bags to the kitchen.

Morgan's eyebrows furrowed. "Man, reality does not live up to the expectations of movies! Oh wait –" Yvonne refilled the water bottles and placed them in the fridge. "Never mind. Maybe we should use plan Z. Let's call _Dr Who_…"

With stunned frenzy, both her and Chuck's eyes jolted to face the bearded fellow. "What?"

"Well, he can travel through space and time. So he's the perfect person to call. And think about it. If he's fiction and we're fiction then…" Perplexity still remained prominent on their faces. "Come on, it is basic Math. Two negatives make a positive. Therefore two fictions cancel out, meaning that TV series must be real in our world."

"Okay first of all, buddy, you flunked Math. Secon–"

"Wait. Morgan," Yvonne butted in, "if _Dr Who_ is fiction in your world as well then that makes it…double fiction…doesn't it?"

"Exactly," Chuck continued, "So it is more like three negatives which will give you a positive and a negative which then gives you a negative. Meaning that three fictions – wait, two fictions and a – no, huh?" Chuck scraped his forehead in confusion, drenching his palm in his dripping sweat.

"Okay then, plan Z fails…next idea. What letter comes after Z?"

…

Rapid footprints scraped the carpet of Zach's living room as his mind frantically searched for answers and solutions.

"Relax, Zach. Maybe…maybe it has something to do with me pausing the screen. If we watch it again –"

"No. That's not it. Something is missing. What is it? What am I not seeing…?" Pacing, deep in thought, his face morphed into a stern frown, puzzled in frantic perplexity.

"You thought that the kiss had –"

He stopped. His crossed arms fell to his sides. "Wait." Like the flicker of light returning to a half-fused light bulb, Zach's mind glistened with an unveiling mirage of hope. "I got it."

"What? What is it?"

…

"You know, maybe our only hope is to wish," Morgan stated.

"What do you mean? Just give up?"

"No. I just think that this whole scenario is full of magic and maybe wishing upon a star might –"

In a swift move, Yvonne clutched her forehead in agony. Her jaw clenched, trying to fight the pulsating throe. Her eyes shut in response to the pain, causing wrinkles to form near their corners.

"Yvonne? Yvonne, what's wrong?" Chuck asked, his voice quivering with concern.

"It's my…head." Her hands pressed tightly against it. "It's…throbbing."

…

Zach faced Sarah. His eyes stared into hers. He charged towards her and seated himself beside her on the couch, drawing his face close to hers. His hands gently grasped her face, causing her to lean backwards in confusion.

"What are you doing?" she asked; her pace rapid in motion. She felt a slight discomfort in feeling his hands gently nestled round her neck.

"Firstly, before I go through with this, there are a few rules –"

"–What?"

"Don't interrupt, that's rule number one. Rule number two: please don't hit me. I have sensitive skin. Rule number three – okay this isn't really a rule, more like a statement: If this doesn't work, then this is going to be extremely awkward…"

"Why? What are you going to do?"

He leaned in, his lips just centimetres from hers. "Goodbye, Sarah Walker." With that farewell, his eyes fell upon her lips and pulled her in, brushing his lips against hers.

…

His lips pulled free from hers and his eyes remained shut; stuck in the amazement of the experience. Consumed in excitement from their prolonged embrace, he allowed himself to believe that the kiss magically worked. Though, he remained nervous to open his eyes and ask her if it did. He knew he couldn't face the truth if it didn't.

Pulling away from their lengthened embrace, her eyes gently opened, revealing to her senses the bewildering location that she found herself in.

_The beach?_ _Chuck?_

His eyes lowered, allowing his overbearing emotions of woe to grate away at his heart. "It didn't work…" A deafening smile of humiliation plagued his complexion. "Humph, of course it didn't."

Sarah's eyes wandered, trying to catch a full grasp on what actually happened. Did Zach's kiss transport her back into the past?

"What didn't?" She replied with hesitation.

"The kiss. You know, Morgan's theory…one magical kiss and you will remember. Sorry, I – it was foolish of me to think – it's just foolish…"

As her widened eyes blazed upon the man that sat in sorrow beside her, she felt a calming sense of wonder force the corners of her lips to broaden into a widened smile of glee. The blaze of the sunset gleamed light into her eyes, lighting them up like a Christmas tree. The wait was over. The anxiety had passed. Here she was, with Chuck; with her memories re-installed; with her feelings reinforced. How could everything have worked out so perfectly?

"Chuck."

His watery eyes turned to face hers, trying to hide his fountain of disappointment. "Yeah," he sniffled.

"I remember."

Through the windows of his soul, a glimmer of hope seemed to slowly over shade his shadow of despair. "What?" he questioned; the tremor of his voice barely audible.

"The kiss, Chuck; it worked. I remember."

A few seconds passed, his eyes still glued to hers. No words escaped his quivering lips. His mind rebooted, trying to fully comprehend the truth Sarah revealed to him. A trickle of water slowly cascaded down his cheek, dampening his shirt with his tears. The fountain buried within his heart suddenly burst free, causing a river to sprout through his eyes. He couldn't inhibit his uncontrollable weep. Tears just kept coming with rapid force, causing Sarah's heart to momentarily panic.

"Chuck, what's wrong? What is it?"

To him, the unimaginable came true. All his fears of losing her suddenly sprouted to the surface. He felt as though his life was like scattered stones, barely stuck together to form a rock. And he tried to present himself as such, constantly holding himself together to prevent his life from collapsing into rubble. Though, now that Sarah had revealed to him the words he longed to hear, he could release his hold and allow himself to dilapidate, knowing Sarah would be at the bottom, putting him back together.

"Chuck, speak to me. What's wrong?" The once tremble of his voice now captured hold of hers. She clutched him, stroking his cheek and wiping away his waterfall of tears. Bringing him to his feet she grabbed hold of his body and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly in her embrace. Feeling the antagonising fear of losing her, he tightened his grip of her, never wanting to ever let go. "Chuck; honey, you have to tell me what is wrong. Please."

Tears continued to stream down his raw face, compressing his eyes to form wrinkles near their corners. The quake of his voice remained evident. "I love you," he whimpered.

Her heart fluttered; the memory of each moment he told her that still fresh in her mind. She grasped his face in her hands, staring directly into his watery, reddened eyes.

In a second of tranquillity, the quivering and quaking of his body suddenly lost its tremble. His eyes found peace through her presence. In cohesion with the calm motion of the waves, her face glistened with the illuminating white light of serene joy. "Chuck." An abundant smile captured her face in a delicate beam of happiness. "You're a gift. You're a gift I never dreamed I could want or need and every day I will show you that you are a gift that I deserve." No longer a weeping angel, his eyes began to gleam. _Her wedding vows! She remembers her wedding vows._ "You make me the best person I could ever hope to be and I want to spend and learn and love the rest of my life with you." A moment of silent repose followed her vow. As her ecstatic smile became more prominent, so did his.

She hadn't informed him of her inconceivable adventure that brought her to where she currently found herself. Why shatter the illusion of the fairy-tale? 'One enchanted kiss and she will remember'. Although a lot more complex, Morgan's theory did hold some truth. It clearly held magical powers of memory restoration. If it hadn't have been for the kiss, the story may have ended in heartbreak.

Few words passed through his lips for he failed to know what exactly to say. Yesterday he was a broken man. Today, everything was restored. How could he explain it? He couldn't. Though he did let one word slip. He released a single word that described his emotions to the tee; a single word that represented his everlasting relationship with the woman of his dreams; a single word.

"Perfect."

…

Pulling their lips apart, Zach opened his eyes, only to reveal the presence of another woman confusedly staring back at him. "Zach? Why did you kiss me?"

"What?" He glanced at her, his eyes shooting blanks. "You changed clothes?"

Ignoring his reply, her head darted in all directions, absorbing her surroundings. "My headache is gone. What happened? How did I end up _here_?"

"Sarah?" His brain then clicked into motion. "Oh. Yvonne!"

"What happened? What did you do?"

"I kissed Sarah Walker."

Her eyes protruded. "What? How did you know about Sarah?"

"Long story. Long story cut short though, in order to bring you back and return her, I well, I had to kiss her."

A blaring look of disfavour prominently stained her face. "You're lucky that plan didn't backfire..."

"Well who said it didn't? I ended up kissing you didn't I?" he joked, allowing a chuckle to escape his lips. She slapped his arm in response, although the smirk on her face displayed her slight amusement with his quip.

Their eyes caught hold of the TV screen, frozen on the final kissing scene between Chuck and Sarah. Gazing blankly at the frozen picture, their minds pondered over the outcome of Chuck and Sarah's future as well as reminisced over their recent, unexplainable experience. "Zach, how do you think their story will end?" Yvonne asked.

"Well, I suppose the same way all good stories end. Happily ever after."


End file.
